Enough Basis
by snowyplains
Summary: missing scene for Viva Las Vegas (yeah, a little late) NS, so you know where I'm going with this one.


Title: Enough Basis  
Author: snowyplains  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters mentioned or the show that they're on.  
Note: I haven't abandoned my other story, but inspiration struck for this one. 

"He thought we were married. How about that?" she asks, with bemused amusement as she gets into the car.

I start up the car, mulling over my words before I say them. "I don't know, Sara. I always thought we made a pretty good couple"

She whips her head over to glance at me, and I plaster a grin on my face convincing enough for her to believe that, no, I wasn't serious.

Not entirely, anyway.

She scrunches her eyebrows in response, but plays along. "Really, Nick"

"Why not? We both like Chinese food, domestic beer, and making fun of Greg"

She snorts. "That's hardly basis for a relationship"

"You didn't let me continue. We're both love this job and we're both incredibly good looking..."

I earned a slap in the arm for that.

She smirks "As convincing as that list is, what about all the things we don't have in common?"

"Like?"

"I've been to your house, Nick. You're the neatest bachelor I've ever met. You actually have food in the fridge, and an extensive collection of spices. I've never seen hair in your sink or bathtub, and you use 3 ply toilet paper"

I grin for real now. I never knew she had taken the time to notice all that. "As opposed to your apartment..."

"...which is a mess." she continues.

"I've only seen takeout containers in your fridge, although, to your credit, I have occasionally noticed a box in milk in there or something." I tease.

"My bathroom counter is covered with my stuff..."  
That was very true. The last time I was at her place, I had trouble getting to the faucet without knocking over her contact lens solution, hand lotion bottles, and makeup scattered all over the counter.

"...and you use 1 ply toilet paper." I finish her sentence.

"Hey. It's cheaper." she laughs.

"But you use more." I counter.

"Touché." she concedes.

I actually found it kind of endearing that she was so messy and low maintanence. It humanized her somewhat. She was often so focused and stoic at work that I could barely imagine there was some part of her life she put no effort into. "And on the basis of our cleaniness and toilet paper preferences, you're making the claim that we're too different to ever pursue a successful relationship"

Again, the head whip to look at me. "Just how much thought have you put into this, Nick?" she asks suspiciously.

"It crosses my mind from time to time." I answer honestly. How was I supposed to even begin to explain how much I thought about this?

"And that's just the beginning. I'm a workaholic"

"... and I'm not. But so what?"

She plows on. "I take things a lot more seriously than you do...you're more social than I am...and I'm more mathematically inclined in a day than you have been in your entire life"

I laugh at the last one. I remember telling her once that I had passed my only required math course in university with a 52. "So we balance each other out. What's wrong with that?"

"I can't believe we're arguing about this." she mumbled. "Whether we'd be good married."

"It's a valid question." It was to me, anyway.

"On the basis of some offhand comment someone made at the Chapel of Intergalactic Love?" she asks, incredulously.

"Don't avoid the issue. What's so repulsive about being married to me?" I couldn't help being slightly hurt that she seemed to have no end to reasons why she'd never be with me.

"Everything." She looks over at me, and smiles.

"You sure know how to make a guy feel special." I was somewhat relieved to know she was at least partially kidding.

"I'm not your type, anyway." she looks out the window, avoiding my gaze.

"Okay, Sara. Since you seem to know, what's my type?"

She shrugs. "Tall, gorgeous, redheaded"

"Two out of three isn't bad." I park my car neatly into an empty space.

She looks down at her hands for a second before snapping her head up and staring straight at me. "Nick, exactly what are you trying to get at here?"

I unbuckle my seat belt, and get out of the car. I could hear the insecurity in my voice, and I hated it. "I don't know. Admit I'm not so bad."

She laughs, grabbing my arm as we walk back into the lab. "Nick, someday you'll make a special woman really happy."

That someday, I hope it'll be her.


End file.
